Promise
by Sapphire Swirls
Summary: As Harry enters 3rd yr, strange things start to happen. a new student arrives, escaped convicts are on the lose, and Harry must make truce with a certain blonde Slytherin to work it out. contains abuse, slash, swearing. will be a very long fic.
1. A great Start to a New Year

hello :) it's finally here! My new Harry potter story, Promise…! It's based in third year, because it's my favourite book :P the characters might seem OCC, but I need them to be slightly so my story idea will work… I will try to keep them in character though, but no promises XD oh yeah, before I forget, Harry knows about the prophecy.

Disclaimer for the whole story: Do I own Harry Potter? Well if I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, I would be out there making millions, so I do not own. You've made me sad now :(

Promise…

A great start to a new year

Rain pounded against the window, creating a shimmering, mini waterfall as the crystal drops smashed harshly against the cold glass. Thunder rolled in the sky, and lightning flashed with such force that the black clouds light up with the white electricity. Wind howled, creating an awfully annoying whistling as a red train roared through countrysides and small towns.

On this train, dim lights flickered in long carriages as they rocked side to side. They were cold; the students were wrapped up in cloaks and huddled together, some students jumping every time thunder crashed or lightning flashed. However, there was one boy, who wasn't bothered by the rain, the lightning, or even the thunder. This boy had his head against the freezing window, green eyes glazed with old memories while his friends worried only about the storm going on outside. Each flash was green to his mind, and the rumbling thunder was a whisper compared to the piercing scream that echoed around his skull. This boy, a third year, has had a horrid life with his only relatives, the Dursleys. They were spiteful, mean, and violent, only caring about themselves and their perfect little lives. To them, this boy was a freak. A monster. An alien from another world. Therefore, they must treat him this way, to knock the freakishness out of him, even though they knew that the boy would never become part of their family. So it was normal for them to hit the child, to scream at him, to lock him away in a dark cupboard under the stairs and to feed him scraps of waste for food. It was okay to treat a child this way, because if he was stuck on someone else's doorstep at the age of one, they knew that the people there would've done the same.

The boy sighed. Many thoughts and questions were flashing in his mind.

Why was he alive?

Why did his parents die to protect him?

What was his point of living?

Why was it he who is destined to kill the dark lord?

Well he knew one answer. He merely lived for one thing; to kill Voldemort. After that, he will just exist, with no purpose and no goal to work towards. When he defeats the monster that killed his parents, he will be alive, just so he can exist. He will be nothing.

A soft hand gently touched his shaking shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. He knew who it was, but he couldn't stop the flinch at the touch. He looked up into Hermione's eyes. They were full of emotions. Concern, worry, fear…, and anger?

'Hey, 'Mione.' He mumbled, moving his eyes back to the window.

She frowned. There was no need to give a response. He wouldn't hear it anyway. So instead, she took the seat beside her hurting friend, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her chest. Harry didn't react; he was too far gone in his mind.

Harry's skin was freezing to the touch. He only wore his school uniform, his thin robe loose and open. Hermione laid her head onto his shoulder. Gosh, he was so skinny. She could feel his shoulder blades digging into her chest, feel his ribs under her hands, and he was so small. He only just made it to her height. However, what scared her most were his eyes. The once, endless depths of emerald green have now turned dull and dead. No life seemed to show in them, no spark of emotions… there was nothing.

She looked down at him, and her eyes widened slightly as she realised he was fast asleep. Well, it shouldn't surprise her that much. Her friend looked exhausted. His skin was pale, and black bags hung under his eyes. As he got on the train, she saw that his movements were sluggish, like his limbs weighed a ton.

She looked over at the other boy in their compartment, his ginger hair gleaming in the dull, flashing lights, blue eyes narrowed with confusion and worry. Even Ron had noticed something different about their friend.

She hugged Harry's slumbering body closer to her, smoothing his unruly, raven hair with one of her hands.

'He's worse than last year,' Ron's voice whispered, hardly heard through the pounding rain and clapping thunder. 'I wonder what those bastards did to him to make him like this.'

Hermione lifted her whisky eyes away from Harry's face, meeting with blue that showed as much emotion as her own. 'He really needs to talk to us about it.' She replied, going back to staring at Harry's face. 'If he keeps it bottled up, it'll tear him apart.'

Ron frowned, leaning his forearms on top of his knees. They have only been on the Hogwarts Express for just over an hour, but it felt like night-time, not early afternoon. Before they got on the train, it was a clear blue sky and only a couple of clouds by the horizon. Around half hour into their journey, black clouds swallowed the azure sky, and a fierce storm raged into life. The air was cold and clammy, making the students on the train wrap up in their winter cloaks to try to stay warm as the cruel air wafted through gaps in the window frames.

Ron pulled down Harry's trunk from the storages above, and rummaged through it until he found what he was after. Pulling out a winter cloak, he flapped it in the air for it to unravel, then wrapped it round his unconscious friend, Hermione helping. Even in sleep, Harry's face was pinched and pained. Hermione kept her grip on him, trying to give him some sort of comfort as her mind ached for information.

The train seemed oddly quiet. Apart from the rumbling thunder, howling wind and the rattling of the windows, the lack of the normal laughter, chatter, and singing seemed oddly eerie. Never in their two years has the train ride been this quiet.

A quiet nock clipped against the closed door, waking Harry from his sleep. It opened slowly to show three of their friends with smiles on their faces. Harry was instantly on guard. He could sense a dark aura from them, and he fingered his wand in his robe pocket.

'Hey Gin, Luna, Neville,' Hermione smiled, frowning slightly as she felt Harry tense in her arms. 'How are you guys?'

'We're fine,' Neville said curtly, sounding nothing like his clumsy self. 'May we sit down?' he pointed at the spare space next to them.

Hermione nodded, eyeing the three with narrowed eyes. Something wasn't right. What happened to the nervous Neville? The three sat down on the opposite side of the golden trio, eyes hard and nothing like they should be.

The air was tense and clammy as an awkward silence befell. Harry gripped his wand tighter as Ginny smiled happily, brown eyes still hard and cold. He glared back at her, not falling for their act. He pulled his wand out and pointed it at them when he saw their hands discreetly slip into their own pockets, no doubt to pull out their own wands.

'Harry!' Hermione scolded, trying to push down his wand hand.

Ignoring her, he moved his eyes to Ron for a split second, noticing his red face for pointing his wand at Ginny. 'Ron, go and check the other compartments for our real friends,' he said, wand still pointing at the fakes, their eyes hardening and sneers covered their faces.

Ron didn't move.

'GO!' Harry yelled, ducking as a stunner flew over the top of his head from Ginny. Ron left in a hurry, finally noticing something wasn't right.

Standing straight, he saw Hermione had her wand pointed at the imposters, eyes narrowed. He pointed his wand at Luna and sent a stunner, redirecting his wand at Ginny at the last moment, Luna ducked, but the stunner hit Ginny right in the chest. She fell to the floor, unconscious. Neville let out a snarl and sent a cutting curse. Harry wasn't quick enough to dodge it completely, and it caught his arm. Pain ripped through it in sharp spasms, and he grimaced. Not letting his injury affect him, he quickly sent a few stunners at him, knowing that he wouldn't be able to dodge them in the small place.

Fake Neville managed to dodge two, but the third hit him on the arm, sending him spiralling into the back wall, and falling unconscious. Just to be sure, he sent a Petrificus Totalus to keep them in place.

Breathing heavily, he turned to look up at Hermione, who was staring back at him, whisky eyes clouded with confusion as she took down Luna. Why would someone attack them on the train in all places?

The compartment door slid open once more, and Ron appeared with the real Ginny, Neville, and Luna. They looked worried, but it soon turned into relief when they saw the imposters unconscious and bound on the floor.

'Harry! You're bleeding!' Ginny rushed over, eyebrows burrowed as she gently took Harry's injured arm and pushed up the cloak and robe sleeves. The cut was deep, and little rivulets of blood started to flow down his arm, gathering at the crook of his elbow before slivering down to his wrist.

'It's nothing,' Harry mumbled, trying to yank his arm away from Ginny's firm but gentle grip, but she didn't let go.

'It's really deep! How can it be nothing?'

Harry looked away, flexing his fingers at the tingly feeling that spread through them. 'I've had worse,' he replied in the same dull mumble.

Ginny frowned as she dug around in her pocket, pulling out a hanky and pressing it hard against the wound. Harry winced slightly, but it was undetectable to the untrained eye. The other occupants in the small space shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do to help.

'Is everyone alright?' a strange voice floated into the compartment. 'I heard there was a fight going on down here.'

Harry turned his head to the man that was standing awkwardly in the doorway, one foot in, as if he was deciding whether to come in or not. 'We're fine, thanks.' Harry wondered who could be stupid enough to fight on a train, let alone with them!

The man turned his amber gaze to the three crumpled forms stunned and frozen on the floor, then turned to the bloody cloth that was now crimson with blood from Harry's arm.

'Let me look at that,' he said softly, walking into the room and taking Ginny's space, holding Harry's arm like it was going to fall off any second.

He took off the cloth, using it to wipe the wound clear from blood. Harry used this time to study the man in front. He wore old, tatty clothes; the brown trousers faded and cloak patched with coloured squares. Brown shoes were scuffed at the toes, and the shirt seemed grayer than white. Salt and peppered golden hair shone dully in the flickering light, and amber eyes seemed soft and friendly. The man's face showed more exhaustion than his own; lines looked like they were a permanent feature, along with the bags and waxy skin. His hands were calloused, but soft at the same time as they examined his arm. A calm atmosphere followed this man, and it made Harry let his guard down slightly.

'Who are you?' Harry asked, finding the cut on his arm rather interesting.

The man looked up after placing the bloody cloth back over the injury. 'I'm Remus Lupin, the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. You must be Harry Potter.'

Harry nodded, frowning slightly.

Remus just smiled at him. 'You know, you're not like James at all, are you? Your features are like Lily's but your hair is James, and possibly your Quidditch skills.'

Harry looked up, green eyes wide and curious. 'You knew my parents?'

'Yes, rather well. They were my best friends at Hogwarts, and all those years after. I used to visit you and your parents when you were tiny. They were so proud of you, Harry. They loved you so much.' Remus sighed, a sad smile on his face as he remembered the old days.

Harry looked away, having no idea how to feel about this man now. If he was a family friend, why did he never come to visit him at the Dursleys?

'There,' Remus said, rotating Harry's arm to look at the now clear cut. 'It's stopped bleeding, but I advise you to go to Madam Pomfrey when we get there okay?'

Harry nodded, pulling his arm away and dragging down his sleeves, grimacing at the rip in them.

Everyone stepped aside when Professor Lupin knelt down next to the three prone figures crumpled on the floor. Harry guessed they used Polyjuice Potion, and by the look on Hermione's face, he knew it to be true. Professor Lupin took out his wand and gave it a swift wave, the imposter's bodies floating behind him as he walked out.

'See you at the feast, Harry!' he smiled just as he disappeared down the carriage.

Harry looked at his friends, who all looked as confused as he felt. This Lupin was a strange fellow, but he couldn't help but like him.


	2. Friend or Foe?

Friend or foe?

The rest of the journey past quickly. As they got closer to Hogwarts, the storm broke, leaving the air crisp and fresh, the black clouds revealing a dark sky streaked with shades of orange and pink from the setting sun.

The laughter and conversations returned to the carriages of the Hogwarts Express, most about the recent attack on Harry Potter. The donned winter cloaks were put back away, and the new students became more and more excited as the time past. The Polyjuice Potion wore off the three imposters, and they turned out to be Slytherins (no surprise there), Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott. Finally, the train came to stop.

Grabbing their trunks and pets, they made their way onto Hogsmeade station, pushing past the nervous and squealing first years to get to the horseless carriages. Getting into one with Luna and Neville, they watched as the majestic castle come into view. Hopefully, this year will be absent of magical stones and basilisks.

The castle looked grand against the dark sky. The glow of lights made the bricks look golden, and the moonlight danced on the soft ripples of the lake. A gentle breeze blew, ruffling through their hair. The only sounds were the whispered chatter and the clip-clop of invisible hoofs on the ground.

The great doors came into view, the brass bolts and handle shining dully in the light as they lined up, waiting to enter. Harry smiled. He was finally home. As they were led into the great hall, the magnificence of it struck them all again, as it did each year. It looked amazing. The floating candles sent a gentle golden light onto the four house tables and the head table, the plates shimmered and the ceiling showed a black sky dotted with thousands of stars. They took their usual place at the Gryffindor table, and waited for the sorting to begin. Finally, Professor McGonagall brought out the small wooden stool and the moth-bitten hat.

The hall silenced as Professor Dumbledore stood up in front of the phoenix stand, arms wide and sky-blue robes glittering. He smiled happily, his beard shimmering as much as the floating ghosts.

'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!' he started, eyes roaming the students as they waited anxiously for the sorting to begin. 'Firstly, I would like to introduce a new student to our third year. He came from a small wizarding school in Canada, and I would like him to be sorted before the new students. I now welcome, Tyler Sanders!'

A boy wondered in from the door where the first years normally come from. He looked taller than the average third year, and an air of confidence surrounded him as he looked around with narrowed brown eyes, a frown on his pale face. He looked disgusted as he came upon the wooden stool, but it quickly disappeared as he sat down. He shifted slightly as McGonagall dropped the leather hat onto his russet hair, his hands folded in his lap.

It took longer than the average sorting, and the hat seemed to be in deep conversation by the way it moved here and there, shaking side to side or up and down. A frown stretched on the young boy's face as he fought some inner battle. The rip in the hat opened as to speak, but it sagged suddenly just to flop back up and shout, 'RAVENCLAW!'

The Ravenclaw table burst into cheers, and Tyler took of the hat with haste and made his way to said table. Harry didn't know why, but he had a strange feeling about this new kid.

Dumbledore smiled happily, as he set his twinkling blue eyes on them again. 'Secondly, I am now going to tell you something of great importance. As it seems, a prisoner from Azkaban has escaped, so Dementors have been stationed around the perimeter of the school. I warn you not to go near them unless you wish for a Dementor's kiss.' He looked around again, blue eyes steely. 'Now, bring on the sorting!' he moved to sit down at his spot on the head table just as McGonagall lead the first years into the hall.

Harry watched with dull eyes as the first years wondered onto the levelled platform, wringing their small hands and frantic eyes wide and fearful. It looked like someone spread the troll rumour again. No doubt that it was Fred and George.

The rip in the hat opened, and the hall watched with open ears to hear the latest song.

_Hello Hogwarts, you're all here I see,_

_Prepared to be sorted, get ready,_

_If Gryffindor, loyalty and courage are true,_

_If brains and smarts, Ravenclaw's for you_

_If friendship comes first, Hufflepuff it'll be,_

_if you're sneaky and sly, Slytherin's the key,_

_But hence this warning, _

_young'uns, beware!_

_Because danger is dawning,_

_So take good care,_

_Look out for rings,_

_Of golden luck,_

_With power so mighty,_

_You might be stuck,_

_One more thing, before this song ends,_

_For two boys in this room,_

_Become enemies, not friends,_

_I warn one boy, hair black as night,_

_To be ready for a terrific fight,_

_I beg you to make truce,_

_With your one true rival,_

_Because when this year ends,_

_The results will be final!_

The hall was in complete silence, everyone taking in the strange warning, trying to figure out whom the two boy's mentioned are. A scattered applause then broke out, turning into a roar of noise as it grew.

Harry closed his eyes, frowning. He knew that the boy with "hair black as night" was him, as it was quite obvious. However, to make truce with one of his many rivals? How will he know which one? Most of the Slytherin 3rd year hated his guts, but the one who hated him most was… Harry snapped his eyes open and turned round to look at the pompous blonde.

"_With your one true rival,"_ Harry had to admit that he and Malfoy have been enemies from the first time they saw each other in Madam Malkin's, and have been rivals ever since. The only other rivals bigger than Malfoy was Voldemort and his deatheaters, and there was no way in hell that they would make truce.

Harry frowned, green eyes narrowing when they met steely grey. A tap on his shoulder reluctantly made him turn back round to face Hermione. By the look on her face, she knew the hat was talking about him. He stared into whisky eyes that asked so much, but he had no answers to give. He shook his head slightly, telling her he knew nothing. Harry stared at his hands, clenching and un-clenching them as thoughts swarmed his head. The way the new kid acted to the hat… it was strange, especially the way the hat reacted, as if it was forced to choose another house or something. Besides, the way the new kid acted… it was as if he thought he was _superior_ to everyone else, but it was probably just big-headedness.

The sorting past quickly, and their house had twelve new students, all looking scared, nervous and _small_ beside all the older learners. Harry sighed and rested his head against his propped up palm as he felt the presence of eyes staring at his back. The first years must of found out where he sat by the others. Typical.

Dumbledore got up to stand at his phoenix pedestal once more, and spread his arms.

'Before our magnificent feast begins, I would like to say a few things. First, the Forbidden Forest is –well- forbidden. Anyone caught anywhere near it will be punished, unless you are accompanied by a member of staff. Secondly, Mr Filch's list of banned products has now expanded to the high number of two hundred and sixty seven. Anyone caught with any of these products will be punished. Ask Mr Filch for details.' He paused, his twinkling blue eyes roaming the young faces before a smile graced his own aged one. 'And lastly, I want you all to welcome our most recent member of staff. Please welcome Professor Lupin, our new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher!'

At this Harry's head snapped up, green eyes wide as the hall erupted into cheers, and he himself couldn't help but join in, a small smile adorning his face.

After the loud cheering died down – and Professor Lupin's embarrassment as he was made to stand up – Dumbledore spoke only three words.

'Begin the feast!'

Then suddenly, with a shift of air, the gleaming golden plates before them were heaped with all sorts of food. The soft aromas mixed, and the gasps filled the air as the new students took in the hall and the display of magic. Harry only then realised how hungry he was. He looked over at his closest friends. Hermione was tutting and sighing at Ron as he stacked his plate with anything within reach and shoving it down his throat as fast as he could. He was so glad they were his friends. He reached out and picked out a small meal, knowing that even if he was hungry enough to eat a griffin; his stomach would not cope with so much food after the little he had over the holiday. He yawned, resting his head against his palm as he took a small bite out of a chicken leg.

No matter how much he enjoyed the first day back, he was very much looking forward to his bed that he knew was waiting for him in the Gryffindor tower. Just the thought of snuggling down in the soft, warm crimson blankets made him smile, knowing that this was where he belonged.

He only managed to eat three quarters of what was on his plate before he felt that if he took another bite, he would be rushing to the closest toilets. He pushed his plate away before folding his arms on the shining wood and burying his head into the soft folds of his cloak, sighing as the darkness calmed his headache that was threatening to expand.

'Harry? Is that all you're going to eat?' Ron's gruff voice broke through the sleepy have that fogged his brain, and he reluctantly slid his chin up onto his forearm. His friend was looking sceptically at Harry's plate with narrowed blue eyes, a chicken leg held in one hand, a cup of pumpkin juice in the other.

'Yeah,' he mumbled tonelessly, wanting his bed more and more as the minutes ticked by. 'I'm not that hungry.'

Ron swallowed and Harry grimaced; you could hear his gulp from across the giant hall. 'Nightmares?'

Harry looked up, surprised. It was normally Hermione who first noticed his sleeping difficulties, but was it that obvious? He looked down at his folded arms, realising how he had let his guard down too much.

'I'll take that as a yes.' Ron spoke, taking another huge bite out of the leg. Harry didn't bother answering. Ron knew he was right. He buried his face back into his arms, breathing in the musky, leathery smell of his robes from them spending too long in his trunk. He listened idly to the conversations around him, and he knew that Hermione kept glancing at him.

Finally, after the feast, they were all told to go to their common rooms. Harry smiled as he pushed himself up, standing still until the dizziness past, and started to walk out the hall with Ron and Hermione either side of him.

Walking behind everyone else to miss the stares, they followed the crowd through the large hall doors that led to the hallway to all the common rooms. However, as they treaded up onto the first step, a snide voice called out.

'Potter,'

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. Can't he just go to bed? He turned around and came face to face with the new kid, Tyler.

'What?' he grounded out, using the same amount of hate in his voice as Tyler's.

Well, face to chest. Tyler was quite a bit taller than he was, and he frowned. Great.

'So it's true. The great Harry Potter is nothing more than a phony. However, to me, I do not find you fascinating or great. To me, you're a runt that will get in my way.'

Harry raised an eyebrow, not bothered by the other boy's height. 'And you stopped me just to tell me that? Thank you Tyler, now I must be going.' He turned on the spot and continued to climb the stairs, but a hand dropped heavily onto his shoulder, holding him in place painfully. He couldn't help the flinch that escaped. Ron and Hermione jumped forward, but Harry shook his head.

'Go on, I'll catch up.'

His friends sent Tyler their coldest looks, and Harry swore the temperature dropped a few degrees. Reluctantly, they turned and made their way to the Gryffindor tower, Ron cracking his knuckles warningly.

'_What!' _Harry sneered, annoyed as he turned back round, green eyes narrowed and blazing behind his glasses.

He didn't see the fist coming until it was too late. It smashed into his nose, making his stumble backwards from the force. Hands then grabbed the front of his robes, lifting him of his feet as Tyler pulled him close enough to feel each other's breath.

'Stay out of my way or you will regret it.' He hissed, brown eyes flashing with barely contained anger. He dropped Harry, and with one last punch to his stomach, Tyler sauntered off towards the Ravenclaw common room.

Harry gingerly touched his face, and grimaced when his hand came down smeared in crimson blood. Great. He went to stand up when footsteps behind him made him pause and tense, ready for the hit as they came to a stop.

'Potter.' Harry mentally hit himself. Both Tyler _and _Malfoy in the same day? Great. Bloody marvellous.

'What, Malfoy,' he sighed dejectedly, realising that Malfoy spoke his name with little malice.

Malfoy moved round and knelt down so he was nearly level with Harry. Steely eyes were hard, but nowhere near like they were last term. 'I would stay away from him if I were you. Not even a Slytherin would play that dirty.'

'I no,' Harry sighed again. 'He didn't even make any sense. But now I know he is up to something.'

'Stay away from him,' Malfoy repeated, standing up, and holding out a hand.

Harry's green eyes widened in surprise. Draco _Malfoy _was offering to help? What was wrong with the world!

Cautiously, he gripped the offered hand with his non-bloodied one, and Malfoy hefted him up onto his feet. 'Thanks,' he mumbled, pushing his sleeve against his spurting nose. Malfoy nodded before he walked off.

Harry stared after him. Did he, Harry Potter, just have a somewhat civilized conversation with his enemy, Draco Malfoy? Shaking his head slightly, he climbed up the marble steps, and came to the Fat Lady's portrait. Luckily, the Gryffindor prefects came and told them the password during dinner. Pushing it open, he stumbled through, still clutching his nose.

'Harry!' Hermione popped out from behind one of the armchairs facing the roaring fire, and made her way towards him, Ron following close behind.

Harry sighed. He had hoped that they would've gone to bed, but he knew they would wait up for him.

Hermione sped up as she saw a drop of blood drop onto the floor from the soaked sleeve that Harry was holding to his nose. 'He hit you!'

Ron cracked his knuckles again. 'I'll kill him!' he growled, blue eyes narrowed and full of hate.

'Guys, it's nothing. It doesn't even hurt that much.' He said softly, trying to stop the wince as his nose gave a painful throb.

Hermione stared sceptically at him before pulling him over towards the armchairs and pushing him gently into one. She looked over at Ron who was still cracking his knuckles.

'Would you go and get some warm water and a cloth?'

Ron nodded and rushed up the stairs to the boy's dormitory.

Hermione carefully pulled Harry's arm away from his face and took of his glasses, earning another wince. 'Sorry,' she muttered, as she turned Harry's head side to side.

'Well it's not broken, just bruised.'

Harry let out a relieved breath. He was glad that he hadn't already broke a bone on the first day back.

Ron came hammering down the stairs and handed over the water and cloth to Hermione. 'Blimey, Harry! Is it broken?'

'No, just bruised,' Harry replied, smiling through the pain.

'Next time I see that Sanders I'll-'

'No you won't, Ron. I would not mess with him. He's up to something, and I wouldn't want you to have a broken nose.'

Ron just growled.

Harry was stopped from answering by the warm cloth wiping the blood from his face, and carefully dabbing his nose. He let out a pained gasp over a particularly painful spot.

'Sorry,' Hermione whispered again, rinsing the cloth in the warm water before resuming her job.

'There,' she said after a quarter of an hour. 'You're all cleaned up but it looks like it's going to bruise.'

Harry just shrugged. He was too tired to speak. 'Well I'm going up guys, night.' He stood up and made his way up to his dorm, grabbing his glasses along the way. He heard Ron mumble a goodnight to Hermione before following after him.

He pulled out his pyjamas and closed the red, velvety hangings around his bed to get changed. Removing his bloody robe, he winced as it pulled on the cut from the fight on the train. He didn't want to go to the hospital wing on the first day back, and he didn't think it was that bad, so he just left it. Getting into into his nightclothes, he took a small amount of time in the bathroom brushing his teeth and going to the loo before clambering into bed, loving the feel of the familiar sheets wrapped round his body.

He then let himself fall into oblivion's black embrace.

_Yes! The second chapter is up! I hope my song for the sorting hat is ok… it was really fun to do :) I'm actually surprised I got no reviews from the first chapter… is my writing that horrible? I would love it if you would give me some pointers on how to improve, because I plan to finish this, even if no one likes it. My style might be different as I am from Britain, so if you don't like it, don't flame me! It's not my fault how I write, and I am only 16, so I have plenty of time to improve._

_Anyway, I should be updating every week, if anyone is interested :P _

_Sapphire Swirls_


	3. Draco Malfoy and Escaped Convicts

Draco Malfoy and escaped convicts

Dracos' P.O.V (just once because it's easier to explain it this way, unless you guys prefer it in 1st person )

If I had to describe myself a week ago, I would have said that I was arrogant, snobby, handsome, a perfectionist and better than everyone else. I knew that I was rude and obnoxious, but that was just the way I was raised. I can't help it. Well, okay, I can. I _could_ try to be a little nicer, a little friendlier, but my father wouldn't hear of it. He wanted me to be rude and annoying, to be selfish and hurtful to people around me. He wanted me to become a miniature Lucius, and to take his place when he was gone. I can see myself becoming like him – heck, I am already like him! Our looks anyway. We have the same light blonde hair, the mercury eyes, and creamy skin. However, I too look like my mother, Narcissa, also. She past her sharp features onto me, like my cheekbones, nose and pointed chin. As you might say, I'm the best of both. Ha, there I go again. Being big-headed.

However, a week ago today, my father thought I had better start my training to become a Death Eater. I will _never_ forget that day.

It started quite normal. Getting up at the crack of dawn, taking a shower and dressing up even when no one will see me. Then walking through the maze of halls, and down the wide, marble stairs and into the large dining room. In said dining room, there is a huge wooden table, able to sit at least thirty people at once. My father normally brings the Death Eater meetings in here. I had to sit there alone and order one of our many house elves to bring me breakfast, as I did every day.

However, this time It was different.

My father came and sat next to me, ordering breakfast, and reading the _Daily Prophet_. To say this was a rare occurrence would be an understatement. As long as I can remember, my father has never sat down with me for something so casual and normal. My mother has plenty of times, but this was different. She knew I looked up to my father, and she started to pester him, thinking that I didn't know the slightest.

The air surrounding us wasn't stiff and tense as I thought it would be. It was light and comfortable – until he dropped the bomb.

With a cheerful smile, well, cheerful enough for father, he looked me in the eye and said-

'It's time to start your training. We will start as soon as we finish breakfast, so hurry up; we got something exciting planned for your first lesson.'

Most children's fathers encouraged them to become Healers or Aurors, to help people in a good way and to make a change in the world. My father encourages me to kill people, to torture them until their mind and body gives out. To live a life of slavery to a madman.

I felt my stomach drop into the floor and dread filled the empty space, feeling like I was going to explode any moment. However, I plastered the _Malfoy smirk _onto my pale face and reply with a polite, 'Yes, father.'

He smirked again and opened his mouth. I perked up a little, _hoping _that this was the time he would say something nice to me. It was quickly crushed and burnt when he said in his bossy, smug voice, 'Well hurry up, Draco. We do not want to keep them waiting.'

I wanted to scream and shout, to throw the marble and glass ornaments, to stamp my feet and have a tantrum to make up for all the ones I didn't have when I was small. Yet, I just nodded with a 'Yes, father,' and ordered a house elf to clear the table.

We walked to the front door in silence. One of us somewhat excited and expectant, the other shitting themselves. After putting on our cloaks and shoes, my father pulled out a golden quill and held it out. I put a finger on it, ready for the tug and pull, as we were Portkeyed out of the house and into another.

It looked muggle, and I bet it was, considering the group that was waiting for us as we spiralled into the living room.

The first thing I noticed when we appeared was the _smell._ Under the heavy odour of burnt flesh, copper blood and urine, there was the faint trace of cinnamon and lilacs. Then I noticed at my feet, laid three people – well what I thought were people, but they were unrecognisable. Their skin was crisp black; some flaked off to reveal the pink, smoking flesh and bone. Their eyes were wide and empty, still showing the fear and pain as death was forced upon them.

Fear like nothing I ever felt before was thrust upon me, seeping through my nerves and bones, making my whole body cold and sweaty. I had to keep my mask up though, and I smirked at the poor souls that lost their lives just so my father could have some fun.

I looked up at my father's friends. There were five of them. Nott, Yaxley, Goyle, Crabbe, and Macnair. They all had evil grins plastered on their waxy faces as they stepped aside to reveal a small girl that looked no older than eight.

'We saved this little one for you, Lucius,' Yaxley wheezed, rubbing his grotty hands together. It was disgusting.

My father simply nodded, walking over towards the girl and pulling her over by the ropes wrapped cruelly around her. I knew they made her watch as her parent/s and sibling/s were killed. He pulled out his wand and sent a cutting curse at the ropes binding her, not caring a single bit as he cut her fragile arm at the same time. The girl let out a whimper, crystalline tears falling down her pale face.

I watched with cold eyes as she pulled her legs up to her chest, and buried her head into her arms perched on top. Her mousy hair was lank and caked with blood and dirt, her night clothes ripped and stained, and pale skin smeared with the crimson liquid. The worse thing about this girl, though, was her eyes. They were emerald green, and they showed fear. Not the type of fear when you see a spider or a snake, but the real, hard-core fear that shone more brightly than the sun itself, making her eyes big and shimmering. She looked up at me, those eyes striking me once more as she _begged_ with them for me to help her.

I literally felt my heart stop, then pound back into life, threatening to break through my ribs. How can _anyone _hurt another person, let alone a child! It was horrible, gruesome, cruel and heartless. These people were monsters, and I was destined to become one.

The next thing I knew, my father had bound her and started the torture session, and all I had to do was watch. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Well it was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. My fingers twitched as if to grab the small girl and pull her into my arms, to shield her from the terrible pain that my _own _father was inflicting on her.

The spells grew crueller, and her screams got louder. They vibrated around my skull as I forced the smirk to stay on my face. I wanted to look away desperately, but I knew that would have been even worse. I would hear the crack of bones, the high-pitched cries as she begged him to stop, the sickly smack of flesh hitting flesh and blood splattering onto the already stained beige carpet and walls.

Then there was the silence. It was heavy and harsh, pushing down on me as the smell of burnt flesh and blood renewed with vigour, the sun's rays shining though the gabs in the blinds and making the pool of blood glisten around the four Muggles.

That poor little girl was now like her family, those emerald eyes dull and empty, still showing the fear and the _begging _she held out until she couldn't take it anymore.

I wanted to kill myself then and there.

My father laughed and joked with his friends, before taking out the same quill and holding it out to me. Before I could touch it, however, he clapped a hand on my shoulder.

'Take a good look at them, Draco. Our next lesson I will be demonstrating to you the best spells to inflict the most pain on the victims, and I would like you to try for yourself.' He said sternly, smirking at the figures on the floor.

'Yes father.' I didn't know how I made my voice sound as normal as it did.

Behind my mask, I was shaking with fear and hatred. My father, the person I had looked up to, _murdered _innocent people just for _fun!_ The way he spoke of power made it sound cool and exciting, but seeing it first hand? It was the exact opposite. What _fun _can you get out of this? My eyes grew steely with determination to _not _become like my father, to become the exact opposite of what he is. The first thing to do to make sure I don't become like him, was to get the friend I have always wanted to get.

Harry Potter.

My father told me about him when I was younger. About the way it was his fault that the Dark Lord fell, his fault that our family had weekly searches, his fault that more attention was brought on him, not on my father.

But I knew better. The first time I met him in Madam Malkin's, I knew straight away that my father was lying about him. Still, my father asked me to turn him into our enemy, and just to make him happy, I did just that.

The small boy who only came up to my shoulders at the time, looked too innocent to have done all the stuff my father said. His eyes – they showed the same type of fear and pain as the girl that was tortured by my father, and as I watched her screaming in agony, I saw in my mind the small boy I met in the clothes shop, withering on the floor in pain, at the Dark Lord's feet. '_That is his destiny,' _my father had said.

And since that terrible day, my whole life has turned around. I, Draco Malfoy, wants to help Harry Potter beat Voldemort, and to become the first Malfoy to be on the light side. The first Malfoy that has let his perfect mask fall. The first Malfoy that has shown his true self.

If you ask me to describe myself now, you would get a completely different answer. And I am going to stay that way until the day I die.

Normal P.O.V

Harry groaned as he was pull harshly from the best sleep he had since last term by the annoying ringing of his alarm. He snuggled into his pillow while flinging out an arm, trying to find the damn thing, but ended up knocking it on the floor with a crash. Luckily, he had put up a silencing charm to make sure he wouldn't wake up his roommates with his nightmares. Groaning again, he pushed himself up, yawning as he slid off his warm bed and onto the floor, stopping the ringing with a slap of his hand. Picking up the dreaded clock, he placed it back onto the nightstand and picked up his glasses, ridding his hazy eyes of sleep before putting them on. Glancing at the watch on his left wrist, he realised that he had twenty minutes to get ready before heading down to breakfast.

Yawning again, he pulled out a clean set of uniform, grabbed his toothbrush before pulling aside the drapes, and headed towards the bathroom. He quickly looked in the mirror before reaching out to turn the shower on, but swung his head back round to look again. His left cheek where Tyler had hit him had a huge, purple mottled bruise that spread over his nose. It looked horrible, and the worst part was that it stood out greatly due to his pale skin. Yay. He would ask Hermione later to see if she knew a glamour charm or something.

Stripping off, he stepped into the hot water, sighing in relief as it relaxed his tense muscles and warmed up his chilled skin. The water stung his cut on his arm, but it was barely noticeable behind the throbbing of his back. The injuries from the Dursley's were healing nicely, but they still hurt like hell. He quickly washed his hair and body before clambering out, then towel-dried before putting on his school uniform.

He opened the door to see his roommates pulling on their uniforms, grumbling under their breaths as they put an arm through the wrong hole or something. It was pretty funny to watch.

Harry walked over to his bed and fixed the covers before gathering up some books and putting them into his school bag. Satisfied, he swung it up onto one shoulder and waited for Ron to finish getting ready.

Finally, after much groaning and protesting, they made their way down the stairs to see Hermione waiting patiently for them.

'Harry!' she gasped, rushing over and taking his face in her hands. 'That looks bad. Does it hurt?'

Harry shook his head, smiling to confirm that it didn't. Ron looked over, and his blue eyes lost all the sleepiness as he took in the bruise.

'Blimey, mate! He really hit you, huh?' His fists clenched at his sides, and his ears turned the famous "Weasley red."

'It's nothing,' Harry smiled at him. 'Do you happen to know any glamour charms or something to hide it?' he said to Hermione, hope etched into his voice.

Her eyebrows knitted together in thought before looking at him. 'Yes, I know a simple one that will last up to six hours. Will that do?'

Harry nodded, relived. 'You're a life saver, 'Mione,'

She just smiled and rolled her eyes as she pulled out her wand and whispered something under her breath. A weird tingly feeling spread across his cheek and nose, feeling like the static if you touch a TV screen while it's on.

'Has it gone?'

Hermione nodded. 'Come on, we need to get our timetables from Professor McGonagall.'

Chatting idly on the way down, they made their way to the Gryffindor table, sitting in their normal places. Straight away, Ron piled his plate with food and ate it with vigour, as if it was his last ever meal.

'I wonder what we've got first,' Harry said randomly, buttering a piece of toast before nibbling on it. He never could eat a lot in the mornings.

Ron swallowed loudly. 'It's bound to be potions, mate. It's been that way since we gotten here.'

Harry nodded. The teacher's always had to put the worst subject first thing on a Monday morning. It was just how they rolled.

A drumming of wings broke their chat, and they looked up to see hundreds of owls sweeping in, each one carrying either a newspaper or letters from home. Harry looked closely for the flash of white, but seeing none, went back to his toast.

A huge, brown barn owl swooped down and landed next to Hermione, and held out its skinny leg. Hermione dropped five Knuts into the pouch tied around its neck before relieving it of its burden. It stole a piece of bacon from Ron's plate before flying off, Ron's loud 'Hey!' echoing after it.

Harry shook his head while smiling at his best friend's red face as he glared at the bird flying away. He turned and looked at Hermione, who was reading the Daily Prophet.

'Anything good?' Harry asked, trying to look over her shoulder.

She glanced at him before putting the paper flat on the table so all three could see it.

_**Bellatrix Lestrange escaped from Azkaban Prison!**_

Harry looked up to Hermione. 'Who's Bellatrix Lestrange?'

'She is you-know-who's closest Death Eater,' Ron said, leaning in close and eyes serious. 'That one is a right nutter. She likes to play with her victims before killing them in the most painful way possible. No idea how she escaped though.'

Harry turned back to the paper, staring closely at the moving picture. This Bellatrix had black, curly hair that was bunched on top of her head, and went down her back. Her skin was streaked with grime –and most probably- blood. She had crimson lips that revealed rotting teeth, and these wild, wide brown eyes that showed insanity as bright as day. She wore black, lacy clothes that exposed too much skin, and she moved with crazy laughter.

Harry frowned. She did look insane, but she is probably very powerful. He skimmed over the small text, going on about how to watch out for suspicious looking people and how the Minister of Magic is doing "everything he can" to help.

They finished of their breakfast just as their head of house came round and handed out the timetables. Ron took one glance at his and swore.

'Bloody hell! Can't they give us a break?' he grunted, slamming his head down onto the table.

Harry and Hermione looked at theirs. The first lesson today was –of course- double Potions. Great. Just what they needed. Harry wanted to slam his head on the table as well

'Well we better get going,' Hermione's voice said sadly. 'We don't want to give him a reason to give us a detention on the first day of lessons.'

'We don't need a reason,' Harry muttered under his breath, grabbing his bag from off the floor and swinging it onto his shoulder. 'He just hates us, me particularly.'

Hermione hummed, not saying anything against it because she knew it to be true.

And so, with drooped shoulders and eyes down casted, they walked to the classroom like it was a trip to Suicide Lane.

_**I am in love with this chapter! Especially the bit about Draco. This has got to be the best chapter yet, and I really hope it answers some of your questions and why Draco was so nice :) I think it's coming along, and I might tweak the previous chapters, because im not that happy with them that much. **_

_**Do you like my writing better in 1**__**st**__** person? Send a review about it, because if you do like it, I might do a chapter just with 1**__**st**__** person :)**_

_**Reviews are appreciated! **_

_**Sapphire Swirls **_


	4. Potions  and Dumbledore

Potions and Dumbledore

HP

HP

HP

If the hallways in the dungeons were cold, it was nothing compared to the actual classrooms. It was like a cold day. You would think that it couldn't get any worse; you then fall through some ice into below-freezing water. However, with the chance of brewing potions, the flames will somewhat heat up the glacial room. Their teacher for this particular class though was none other than Professor Severus Snape, mostly known as the Dungeon's bat. His glare could freeze them quicker than his room could any day. He had greasy, chin-length black hair, pale skin and a crooked nose. He always wore black; many rumours have been going round the school these past years, one actually saying that Snape was a vampire. Most didn't believe it, but no one would be surprised if it was true.

The third year's Gryffindor and Slytherin students sat uncomfortably on plastic stools, the cold seeping thought their robes and making them shiver. No one dared to talk; only a fool would want detention for a month.

Most of the students jumped when Snape stormed through the doors, making them slam against the stone wall. His black robes billowed out behind him, and he glared at the Gryffindors.

'Quiet,' he barked to the silent room as he made his way to the front. 'May I remind you all that you are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making, not to find the quickest way to blow up cauldrons. I expect you all to brew today's potion correctly with your partner.'

The students shifted slightly, moving closer to the partner they want to work with. Snape just smirked.

'The pairs are –' he then read out pairs, one Gryffindor and one Slytherin together.

Ron was working with Parkinson, Hermione with Zabini, and poor Neville was stuck with Tracey Davis. Then finally –

'Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.' Snape smirked at Harry, black eyes flashing.

Harry shrugged, gathering up his things and moved swiftly to the spare seat next to Malfoy. He spared a glance at Snape's face and had to turn back round to hide his grin.

'Hey, Malfoy,' he greeted, setting up his things on the scarred wooden table.

'Good morning, Potter,' Malfoy replied, turning the pages in his potions book to the page number that Snape spelled onto the chalkboard.

'The potion I want you dunderheads to make is a simple Shrinking Solution. I expect each of you to hand in a perfect sample to me at the end of today's lesson. I hope you blithering idiots can make this meek brew quietly and carefully.' Black eyes scanned the cold room, daring anyone to go against his words. 'What are you waiting for? Begin!'

Scrapes of chairs filled the room as they lined up to get the ingredients for the potion. Arms filled with the gross and sticky substances, Harry made his way back to Malfoy, who was setting up a cauldron and reading the instructions, mouthing them quietly to himself. Gently placing down the jars atop the desk, Harry sat down and pulled his Potions book closer.

_First, peel __the Shrivelfig__, and while__ stirring counterclockwise, carefully pour the purple liquid in the boiling water._

Okay, that sounded simple enough. He dragged the Shrivelfig over and peeled the rough, thick white skin off, pouring the deep purple liquid into a small dish, wrinkling his nose at the gross, bitter smell twirling in the air. He pushed the dish towards Malfoy.

Next on the instructions was-

_Afterward, thinly chop two caterpillars and as you are stirring clockwise, add both caterpillars with thirty seconds in-between. At this stage, the potion should be a forest green with a sweet scent._

Okay. Harry then pulled the jar towards him, opened it and took out two of the big green, lumpy caterpillars, pushing the now closed jar away. Picking up the small but sharp knife with a trembling hand, he reluctantly started to chop them.

*~HP~*

Snape watched the class with narrowed black eyes, scanning the room, searching for a slip of a hand, a wrongly prepared ingredient, an extra stir of a spoon. He had to be on a constant watch in his subject. If he so much as turn around for a millisecond, there is bound to be some sort of explosion. Many things could go wrong. Luckily, a Shrinking Solution can't produce harmful gases, and if it does blow up, it wouldn't put anyone in danger; the worst it could do was shrink the parts of the body the mixture touches, like an arm or leg, or even the head. It was rather amusing to watch, if the potions weren't harmless.

He scanned the room again, pausing on Longbottom as the fool tried to add the chopped caterpillars whilst stirring _counter_clockwise_. _Luckily, Davis stopped him just in time. Snape sighed. He had heard that Longbottom was brilliant in Herbology, but the brat was completely hopeless with his subject. The boy needed a constant eye.

He let his vision fall onto Malfoy and Potter, and narrowed his black eyebrows. There was no name-calling, no glares, no smirks, or sneers. When he paired them together, he hoped that he would be able to take points from Gryffindor and give the spoilt golden boy a detention with Filch. However, the two of them seemed to be getting along. Draco was adding the ingredients to the potion and did the stirring, whilst Potter prepared the ingredients.

He frowned slightly. Potter was pale white, and little beads of sweat rolled slowly down his cheeks. Green eyes were dull and glazed, looking like Potter was thinking of a memory, or it could be a tattletale sign of a fever. Snape watched closely as the boy cut the caterpillars perfectly, but noticed that his small hands shook, and held the handle of the knife near the bottom so his hand was as far from the blade as possible.

Snape quickly roamed the room before his black eyes snapped back to Potter, who had just finished cutting the caterpillars. He put down the knife, and pushed it to the top of the table, as far away as possible. His eyes had that spark in them again, and Snape couldn't help but stare as Lily popped into his mind. Relief literally dripped off Potter, and colour flushed back into his face as he pulled the daisy roots and rat spleen towards him.

It was as if Potter was scared of the knife, like it pulled memories from the back of his mind. How peculiar.

*~HP~*

He and Malfoy looked proudly at their Shrinking Solution. It was the perfect shade of acid green, and the jade fumes that swirled in the air smelt of mints and oddly enough, dirt.

Malfoy picked up the glass tube and poured the weird-smelling potion into it with a ladle, corking the top and sticking a label with their names on. Harry vanished the leftover potion in the cauldron and packed everything up. Grabbing their bags, they walked to the front and handed the tube to professor Snape. They nodded to each other, before going back to their friends.

'That was _hell,' _was the first thing Ron said outside the classroom. 'I swear Pansy Parkinson was dropped on her head as a baby or something. She's worse at Potions then Neville when she's away from those bloody Slytherins!'

'Yes, it was the same with Zabini.' Hermione agreed. 'I think they all help each other, secretly of course. I think that Professor Snape would honestly punish them if he found out they were cheating.'

'Snape punish the Slytherins? That has about the same amount of chance as me being friendly with Malfoy!' Ron countered.

'Honestly, Ron,' Hermione sighed, crossing her arms as they walked to the great hall. 'How do you know that Professor Snape doesn't punish them secretly?'

'Because they are Slytherins! I _know _he doesn't punish them – ha, the whole school knows it, that's why all the other teachers punish them worse than the rest of us!' Ron growled defensively, his ears beginning to turn red. 'Tell her, Harry. I bet Malfoy was a right prat to you.'

'Huh?' Harry said, jolting his head up from examining the stone floor. 'Actually Ron, Malfoy seemed – um, _different_ to usual.'

Ron stared at Harry as if he had just grown another head. 'What the hell, Harry? What do you mean by _different_?'

Harry looked back at the floor so he wouldn't have to look at his best friend's angry blue eyes. 'Malfoy… helped me when Sanders held me back yesterday, and we actually worked pretty well together in Potions. I think he changed over the holiday – in a good way.'

Hands roughly grabbed his shoulders and pushed him against the wall, hard, but not enough to hurt him, but Harry couldn't suppress the flinch.

'Bloody hell, Harry! I cannot believe you are falling for it!' Ron's eyes were wide and angry, but Harry could see they held worry as well, but he couldn't help but fear his friend at this moment. 'Can't you see it, mate? You are literally walking into the Death Eater's clutches! He's going to try to get himself on your good side, and then, when you least expect it, he will get you on your own and hurt you, then hand you over to _them! _I _won't _let you, Harry! I don't want to see you get hurt!'

As much as Harry appreciated the concern and the brotherly loyalty, Ron's grip hardened against his shoulders during his short speech, and he couldn't hold in his gasps of pain. 'Ron, let go,' he choked, 'you're hurting me…'

Sapphire eyes widened as he hastily let go, ears turning red in embarrassment. 'Blimey, mate, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, hones –'

'Ron, it's okay, it doesn't matter. I was being stupid. Thanks.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but watch her small raven-haired friend as they walked to the hall for a small break before charms.

*~HP~*

Snape walked briskly towards the stone guards that – well – guarded the Headmaster's office. Snarling at the hideous things, he rattled his brain for the stupid password.

Sometimes, the Headmaster could be so nonsensical, unintelligent, ludicrous, simple-minded, irrational, mentally incompetent, hare-brained, platitudinous, plebeian, unsophisticated, and feebleminded. Plainly, anyone could get into his office if they knew that the passwords were names of common _sweets, _for Merlin's sake!

'Liquorice Wands,' Snape snapped, waiting impatiently for the daft stones to jump apart. Rushing up the twirling staircase, he pounded on the wooden door.

'Come in!' said a cheery voice from the inside. Snape opened the door and strode inside, the many golden trinkets glinting in the winter sun's rays. Without waiting for the invitation, he took a seat in the overly large armchair seated in front of the neat desk.

'Ah, Severus, my boy,' Dumbledore smiled, sky-blue eyes sparkling brightly. 'What can I do for you? Lemon drop?'

Snape sneered at the mention of the boiled muggle death-drops. 'No thank you, Headmaster. I have come to talk about your precious Golden boy. He was acting rather _peculiar _in Potions.'

'What do you mean by _peculiar_, Severus?' Dumbledore asked, entwining his fingers together, elbows on the desk.

'I mean that Potter was afraid of a knife! The boy who has fought Voldemort the first year here, then slayed a basilisk in his second, is scared of a _knife!' _Snape stood up, slamming his palms onto the desk and staring cruelly at the headmaster. 'I have had many abused children in my house, Albus, and I know the signs. What are those Muggles like, Albus? The _truth.'_

Dumbledore closed his eyes, and then looked at Snape, all signs of the bright twinkle gone. 'The Dursleys aren't the nicest of people, Severus, but I know they wouldn't go as far as to abuse the child.'

'"_Aren't the nicest of people"? _What do you mean by _that,_ headmaster?' Snape growled, onyx eyes hard.

'I admit they neglect Harry, Severus,' the old man said reluctantly, 'but they are his only family left, and the longer he stays there, the longer he will be protected by the blood wards. It is the best place for him I'm afraid, my boy.' Dumbledore sighed hesitantly.

'You _know _that they neglect him?' Snape sneered. 'You _do _know that the wards only protect him from the outside, not the _inside, _right? How do you know that they only neglect him, Albus? Have you ever bothered to send anyone to check up on the boy, to make sure that they are treating him right?'

Snape was met by silence. He growled loudly, throwing his hands into the air and eyes flashing angrily.

'Twelve years, headmaster, and you didn't bother to send anyone to check up on the boy? What if they killed him the day they found him years ago, would you have known? Or would you only have found out when he failed to appear here?'

'I had Arabella Figg move in down the street from Harry,' Dumbledore replied calmly. 'She gave me updates on the boy.'

Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sometimes, he really wanted to whip out his wand and curse the headmaster.

'From across the _street, _Albus! From that distance, she wouldn't have known if Potter was being abused or not! Are you really being this nonsensical?' Snape forced himself to calm down, knowing that he wouldn't get anywhere tonight. 'Excuse me, headmaster. I have potions that need my attention.' he started for the door, when Dumbledore's voice echoed across the room.

'Why do you care so much, Severus?'

Taking another deep breath and without turning around, he said, 'Child abuse is wrong, and I am against it. Anyone who shows signs of abuse needs attention, as it is far too serious to be left alone. Good day, Albus.' And with that, he walked away, the door clicking softly behind him.

*~HP~*

_Yay! Another chapter! I would like to say thanks to the people who have left reviews, faved or story alerted this … it means a lot. I can't describe the feeling when I open my inbox and find all the messages. Thank you! :)_

_Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. I struggled with this one a bit, that's why it's around 500 words shorter, but the next chapter should make up for it!_

_Sapphire Swirls_

_x_


	5. The Dungeon Bat

The Dungeon Bat

HP

HP

HP

The rest of the day past uneventfully for the trio. Professor Flitwick was as small and funny as usual, and Professor McGonagall was still her strict and controlling self. The three enjoyed being back at Hogwarts, but couldn't help feeling relieved as the long day of lessons ended. They dropped their bags off at their common room, and then went to the lake for a relaxing afternoon.

Harry sat against a tree, staring out across the dancing ripples of the dark lake, the lazy sunlight bouncing off the surface. The grass was wet with dew, and the blue sky was dyed with bright, warm colours as the sun slowly set.

Ron was skipping stones across the water, the loud splish-splash echoing around the calm area, scaring a few birds out of the nearby trees. Every now and then, the squid's tentacles rose above the glistening water, catching the flat stones disturbing its peace. The tree branches swayed with the wind, the few golden brown leaves left hung delicately, swirling, as if they were trying to prolong the time when they finally leave the dying tree.

Harry had always felt calm and relaxed by the lake. There was something he loved about the soft lapping of the water, the rustling trees, and the gentle breezes that danced through his hair. The air was always fresh, smelling of the tangy grass and a mild aroma of cooking from the majestic castle. Out here by the lake was the only place he felt normal, where people wouldn't point out at him and whisper, wouldn't stop him to gawk at his scar, where he wouldn't be famous for his mum's sacrifice. He felt _normal_, and he loved it.

He snuggled down in the soft dip of the smooth bark, closing his eyes to focus on the many sounds. The heavy slap of stones as they hit the water, the slow turning of pages as Hermione read her book, birds singing happily in the cooling air and the whistle of the blades of grass from the breeze. However, through the sounds of nature, he could hear the soft thump of footsteps heading their way. He scrunched his eyes tighter, not ready to give up the tranquil peace he could only find here.

'Get out of here, Malfoy!' Harry heard Ron hiss, and he opened his eyes a crack. It was bright compared to the dark his lids enclosed, so it took a couple of seconds to get used to it. However, when he did, he saw Malfoy heading over to where he sat.

'Hey, Potter,' Malfoy said in his silky voice as he knelt down to look Harry in the face. 'I've got a message for you. Professor Snape wants you in his office as soon as you finish your dinner.'

Harry looked curiously at the blonde, nerves jolting in his stomach as he wondered why Snape of all people wanted to see him in his office. 'What for?'

Malfoy shrugged, surprising Harry with this casual act. Malfoy's always answered verbally, never with body signs. 'I have no idea, Potter. I'm just the messenger.'

Harry frowned, looking over at Ron as he stomped over, Hermione looking up curiously from her thick volume.

'What do you want, Malfoy?' Ron grunted rudely, standing in front of his smaller friend and looking down at Malfoy, trying to look intimidating.

'That has nothing to do with you, Weasley. Now if you will excuse me, I have better things to do with my time.' His glare, hard whilst staring at Ron, turned almost _gentle_ as he looked at the raven. 'Remember, Potter.' With that, he walked away, blonde hair dyed orange from the setting sun.

'What did he want, Harry?'

Harry looked up at his taller friend, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stood. 'I've got to see Snape in his office after dinner,' Harry mumbled, vaguely feeling Hermione's eyes trained on his back. 'I have no idea what for though.'

'I don't like this Harry,' Ron said, looking in deep green eyes. 'I don't like it at all.'

*~HP~*

Dinner was, as usual, as magnificent as ever. Tables groaned under all the weight, and soft chatter and laughter filled the hall. Candle light made the room cosier, bathing everything in a warm, comforting light. The colourful twilight gave way to a deep black blanket dotted with stars, the endless night smudged with grey clouds that slugged across the sky, glowing from the shimmering moonlight.

However, Harry had a bundle of nerves trapped in his stomach. Why would Snape want to see him? As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything wrong that needed attention.

He speared a roast potato with his fork, and then stared at it before sighing and laying the utensil back on the china plate. He was hungry, but his appetite vanished at the thought of the Potions teacher.

He looked over at the head table, laying his head on a propped up palm. Hagrid was chatting happily to Flitwick, McGonagall with Dumbledore, which looked like something important, and the Potions master himself was scowling at everything said to him by the bug-eyed divination teacher. He appeared to feel Harry's eyes on him, and he turned, locking black with green. Harry didn't know why, but they held out their gazes. Black eyes seemed to be examining his own, searching for something that he couldn't quite figure out. Not wanting those eyes to find anything, Harry looked away, trying to find interest with his dinner once again.

Soon, the remains of the dinner disappeared, and the tables groaned again as they filled back up with mountains of puddings. Soft, sweet aromas floated harmlessly in the air, making everyone try to force more down to their already stuffed stomachs.

Sipping his pumpkin juice, he looked back up to the head table, grimacing when Snape got up and walked out of the hall, black robes billowing out. He sighed, placing down his cup and turned to face his friends.

'See you in the common room, yeah?' he asked desperately.

'Of course Harry,' Hermione said, smiling slightly. 'Just don't get in more trouble, ok?'

Harry cracked a smile at that. 'I'll try my best, 'Mione.'

'Bye mate,' said Ron, looking sadly at Harry, as if he was just about to walk into a bunch of Death Eaters unarmed.

Harry waved as he pushed himself up, and headed to Snape's office.

The walk down to the dungeons went faster than Harry expected. As he walked down the stone stairs, he felt the warm air disappearing, turning into a cold, chilly atmosphere. The soft splat of water dripping from the cold walls echoed through the tunnels, along with his stumbling footsteps. He cautiously opened up the doors to the Potions class, peeking his head in, searching for the steely-eyed Professor. Sighing in relief, he carefully stepped into the room, softly closing the door behind him. Weaving through the desks, he made his way to the wooden door hidden in the back of the dingy classroom. Taking a deep breath, he knocked and waited.

'Enter.' A velvety voice called, slightly muffled from the closed door.

Harry slowly pushed open the door, the loud piercing creak disturbing the creepy silence as he stepped inside the dingy office.

'You wanted to see me sir?' he asked timidly, closing the big wooden door behind him.

'Mr Potter.' Snape spoke, not moving from his position behind his organised desk, black quill scratching on the parchment. 'I have some important questions to ask you. Sit.'

Harry walked quickly to the rickety stool in front of the Potions Master, gripping the underside with pale, trembling fingers.

Snape watched with emotionless black eyes, weaving his fingers together and resting his elbows on the wooden desk. Harry bit his lower lip, heart pounding, and mind freezing up at the weird thought that Snape could see inside his mind. He shook it off though. Snape wouldn't do that, even if he was a sadistic bastard.

'How are the Dursleys, Potter?'

Out of all the things Snape could ask, this was the least expected. Harry jolted his head up, green eyes wide and mouth agape, fingers unconsciously gripping harder to the poor stool.

'Err… they're fine sir, why?'

'You've misunderstood the question, Potter. How do they treat you?'

Nimble fingers tightened again on the poor wood. 'They treat me fine, Professor.'

'Are you sure? Because the last time I checked, your blubbering fool of a cousin had everything he wanted. Do you get gifts from them? Do they comfort you when you're upset?'

'Err…'

Harry looked down at the stone floor, fear spreading through his veins like a virus. How did Snape find out! He had tried so _hard _to hide the evidence, but it has all gone to waste. Harry knew he deserved the hits and blows from his uncle. He was a freak, a monster. He needed to be punished for burdening these innocent people with a _thing _that was himself. He needs to be taught a lesson, so all the pain he took in stride, knowing that he could never be as good as the Dursleys. After all, he was an orphan who killed his own parents.

He could feel cold sweat sliding down his neck and back, coating his forehead and making his hands clammy as Snape sat and watched patiently. He carefully nodded, hoping that Snape will believe him in his feeble attempt to lie.

'Look at me, Potter,' Snape's sharp voice ordered, a bit softer then it should've been. 'I want the truth.'

Harry's fingers were now numb with the tight grip on the hard wood, green eyes swimming with fear as they stared into onyx black. He couldn't tell him. No, he just could not. His uncle will find out if he did, and he would be punished harder than ever before. He shook his head, looking back at the ground, eyes whizzing side to side in their sockets.

Snape, on the other hand, watched with anger boiling in his stomach. It was true; the boy's relatives abuse him. He hated himself for not spotting it sooner. The boy practically screamed abuse. The second hand clothes, the stunted growth, the thinness, the flinching… heck, even his eyes. They never shown happiness like Lily did. They are dull, and they didn't have that certain spark that could light up anyone's day, no matter how horrible it had been.

He could not wait to see Dumbledore.

'You may go, Mr Potter.'

Harry looked up, relief flooding those expressive emerald orbs as he stood shakily. 'Goodnight, Professor,' he whispered before jogging to the door, slipping out and closing it softly behind him.

Snape dropped his head into his hands while Harry let out a sob the other side of the door.

HP

HP

HP

Hermione was worried. There was something going on with their bespectacled friend, and she did not like it one bit. Each year, Harry comes back to Hogwarts more withdrawn and more jumpy than the last. She knew it had something to do with her friend's relatives, but she hoped that she was wrong.

She drew her legs up onto the red armchair, resting her chin on top as she watched the dancing flames in the hearth. Ron was next to her in the other armchair, reading a quidditch magazine. As he read, she could see that his blue eyes revisited the same sentence over and over again, his mind occupied with other thoughts. No doubt, the same person she herself was thinking of. She could tell that he was worried, but she did not know if the redhead was on the same thoughts as her. Did Ron suspect that the Dursley's hurt Harry? Maybe he did. He was there when they broke the brunet out of his bedroom last year, and Ron told her how they barred his windows. How could people be that cruel?

She sighed softly, her whiskey eyes leaving the warm flames to stare and the entrance to the room, hoping to see their friend walk through, a smile on his face. Harry already had so much on his shoulders; she was always amazed how he could keep those fake smiles up when he has already been through so much that a grown man would fall into depression. However, Harry was strong; no matter what he goes through, he always comes out on top. She believes in her friend, and she knew that Ron did too. They will stand by his side until the very end. That is what families do.

HP  
>HP<br>HP

Harry ran. His lungs begged for air, sweat rolled down his face, his legs ached and his heart pounded, yet he carried on. Snape knew. Snape _knew! _Out of everyone in the school, it had to be the person who hated him more than the Slytherins themselves. Fear was bubbling in his stomach, knowing that when his uncle finds out, it would be the end.

Breathless, he rounded the corner to see the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. He wheezed out the password and without stopping, barged through, ignoring the Fat Lady's annoyance. He only had one thing in mind, and that was to be alone. A rush of warm air greeted him as he jogged inside, his eyes only seeing the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

'Harry!' Damn, that was Hermione. He had hoped that they would have gone to bed, but as it seems, fate had it in for him tonight. He ignored her, knowing he could not keep his sobs at bay for much longer as he stumbled up the stairs.

Once he was in his room, he collapsed onto his bed; barely registering the red velvet drapes closing around him. The supressed sobs rattled his body, and the tears that were clouding his eyes flowed freely down flushed cheeks, wetting his sleeves. Soon after, exhaustion took over, letting the young boy drift into a restless nothing.

HP  
>HP<br>HP

**Yay! It's up! Sorry for that lack of update last week, but my sister was rushed into hospital with severe stomach pains, and was rushed into surgery. It turned out she had a virus that destroyed the intestines. So I had no access to a computer.**

**Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. I like it, it was fun to write. Expect the next update in a couple of days! A pressie for the lateness :) **


	6. Reawakened Past

**Hello! Another chapter is up! Not much to say for this one, so I'll let it speak for itself! Enjoy! :) **

**x**

Reawakened Past

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The next day dawned grey and miserable. Rain splattered against the windows, and a howling wind blew harshly. Harry was wide-awake in his bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. The whole time he was asleep, it was haunted with nightmares. All he could remember was his uncle face, and unbearable, excruciating pain. He sighed as he snuggled deeper into the scarlet covers, quickly glancing at his watch. It was quarter past seven, and breakfast was at eight. Sighing again, he pushed aside the covers, deciding to have a shower.

The warm water relaxed his tense muscles, but he knew he couldn't be much longer. Quickly washing his body and hair, he stepped out, towel drying before putting on his uniform. Stepping out of the bathroom, he walked over to his trunk, not missing the blue eyes that followed him. Digging out the required books for today's lessons, he placed them into his school bag before hefting it up onto his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he headed down to the common room.

He knew Hermione would be waiting at the bottom, ready to assault him with questions. How could he have been so careless last night? He should have stopped at the entrance to collect himself, instead of letting his emotions take over. So now, he was going to pay for that slip-up. Great. Taking a deep breath, he rounded the last bend of the stone staircase, and almost came face to face with Hermione. Inwardly groaning, he tried to manoeuvre around her, but she stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Harry mentally prepared himself; his whole body tensed, and he knew she felt his muscles flex under her hand.

'Harry?' she questioned, her voice holding worry and a hint of fear. Harry looked down, biting down on his bottom lip. 'Not now, Hermione, please,' he whispered as he inwardly winced. Even he could hear the desperation in his voice, even if he tried to hide it. She nodded in response, removing her hand.

Ron then made himself known, yawning loudly as he descended the last few stone steps. 'Blimey guys, you're acting like someone died! What's up?' he questioned.

Harry fiddled with the hem of his robes, not making eye contact, but he knew Hermione sent one of her glares at their hyperactive friend.

The walk down to breakfast was tense and quiet. All were relieved when they entered the loud, friendly hall. Taking their normal places, they dug into their food. As Harry nibbled on a piece of toast, he looked up to the head table, his nervousness growing when he didn't spot the Potions Master. Appetite disappearing, he put down his half eaten toast and pushed the plat away, pulling his cup of pumpkin juice closer and sipping slowly.

Today's lessons were much better than yesterday's. They had double Defence Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical creatures, History and double Transfiguration. History they could live without, but it was a good time to catch up on missed sleep or homework. Also, what made the day so much better was that Harry could avoid Snape, the sadistic greasy-haired bastard.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, showing the same overcast morning that his window did. Grey clouds swirled with black; a tattletale sign of a storm. It seems the weather decided to imitate his feelings. Looking back at their table, he watched as Ginny talked happily with the twins, Fred and George. It was nice to see the young Weasley girl so happy and carefree, considering what she went through last year.

Soon enough, it was time to make it to their first lesson. Harry felt a little miniscule bubble of excitement in his stomach, wondering what Professor Lupin would be like. He hoped he was as kind and interesting as he was on the train. After climbing the moving staircases and walking through cramped halls, they made it to the classroom, and lined up patiently outside with the Slytherins.

They only had to wait about five minutes before the cheery teacher showed up. He looked as tired as ever, but the smile and the twinkling amber eyes were contagious; almost everyone was smiling, waiting for a fun lesson to come. They were led into the classroom. It was much different from last year. There were no photos of himself adorning the walls, no velvet hangings, and no signed photos. Instead, a Grindylow was swimming in a small tank near the desk, and stacks of Defence books littered the desk. It had a more homely feeling; it was more comfortable, a place where you could relax and enjoy the lesson.

The trio managed to grab a desk at the front; everyone was fighting over them. Pulling out the right books and quills, they waited for Lupin to begin.

'Good morning class,' Lupin smiled happily, 'I am Professor Remus Lupin and I am your new Defence teacher. It's nice to meet you all.'

The class murmured their good mornings and welcomes, and a few snickers erupted from the Slytherin side. Harry narrowed his eyes, knowing that they were insulting the man.

'I know you guys haven't had the best teachers in this subject –' everybody laughed at this, and Lupin smiled, '- So I need to find out what you know and what you don't know to see where you are. For this double period, I'll be going over what you should have learned in the past two years. What do you guys think?'

Everyone smiled and nodded, murmuring their confirmation. Lupin turned to pick up a book form his desk, and flicked through the pages until he found the right one.

Alright, could you all turn to pag-'

_SLAM!_

The doors smashed against the walls as a very angry and a very pissed Snape burst into the room, black eyes hard as stone as they stared at the new teacher.

'Lupin,' Snape drawled menacingly, looking the man up and down, talking in the shabby robes and unshaven stubble. 'I need you to excuse Potter. I have strict orders from Dumbledore to take him to the hospital wing immediately.'

Harry froze in his seat, not looking at his friends as they turned to him questionably.

'Ah Severus,' Lupin smiled, clapping his hands together and acting as if they were best friends. 'It's nice to see you too.' He turned to Harry. 'Go on, Harry, it seems important. I'll make sure you'll catch up next lesson.'

Harry gulped, green eyes wide as his put his books away in his bag, got up, and moved towards the irritated Potions Master. He inwardly cursed Lupin and his friendly nature for letting him miss such an important lesson. He should have been made to stay. He could feel the class's eyes on his back, but he didn't care about that at the moment. Snape was taking him to the _hospital wing. _Snape must have told Dumbledore and now they want to check. Harry gripped the strap to his bag with shaking fingers, his mind whirling to find an escape route.

The classroom door closed softly behind them, and Harry had to jog to keep up with Snape's brisk pace. 'Come on Potter, we do not have all day.'

Harry nodded, picking up his pace to walk alongside the other man. 'Why are we going to the infirmary?' Harry asked, his insides squirming like a bowlful of worms, hating the way his voice came out in a squeak.

Snape didn't say anything; he kept his eyes forward, his mouth pulled into that permanent frown. The worms in Harry's stomach increased tenfold and he looked down at the stone floor.

The trip to the hospital wing seemed both too long and too quick; he wanted to get it over with, but he also wanted it to drag on, hoping that in the wasted time he would come up with a plan. He wasn't almost sorted into Slytherin for nothing you know.

A hand landed on his shoulder, making him lift his head from the floor in surprise. He saw they were in front of the double doors to the dreaded wing, and Harry clenched his fists nervously. Snape looked at him from the corner of his eye before pushing them open, and they was greeted by the strong scent of disinfectant, potions, and lavender. Being pushed by the hand on his shoulder, he was steered towards the closest bed, and pushed gently onto it. Wait – gently? This was Snape, the person who sought out to make his life as miserable as it could be, and he was being _gentle _with him?

Snape, taking advantage of the boy's surprise, went to get Madam Pomfrey, locking the doors closed - just in case. By the time Harry snapped out of his shock, silence and an empty room met him. Knowing somewhere deep in his mind that it was futile, he got up and ran to the doors, trying to pry them open. Pulling out his trusted wand from an inside pocket of his robes, he aimed it at the golden lock.

'Alohomora!'

Nothing. Harry sighed, placing his wand back inside his pocket. That spell was the only one he knew for unlocking, and now he was well and truly trapped. Closing his eyes to try to calm the raging emotions, he headed back to the bed, sitting on it dejectedly. Now it was a waiting game.

Around five minutes passed before Snape appeared from the door leading to Pomfrey's office, followed closely by said Medi-Witch. Her face was white, and her kind brown eyes were full of fear and determination. Her hands shook as she held up her robes so she wouldn't trip over them with her brisk pace.

'Good morning Mr Potter,' she started, her voice strict but soft at the same time. 'How are you feeling?'

_How am I feeling? _Harry thought irritably. _Just pissed, anxious, worried, scared, nervous, angry… _'I'm fine. How are you?'

Pomfrey smiled slightly. 'I'm good. Now, I have been asked to give you a medical check by the headmaster. Would you lie back for me?'

_Shit._

Harry complied reluctantly, knowing there was no way out. His trembling fingers clutched the stiff white sheets, nails digging into his palms. The air seemed to freeze as Pomfrey waved her wand over his body, and time felt like it stopped all together.

The three minutes it took to examine felt more like three hours. Emotions were raging through him like an uncontrolled storm, threatening to break through the mask he hid them behind. A soft gasp made him wince, and he closed his eyes so he wouldn't see the terrified and angry look on the kind Medi-Witch's face.

Soft but angry whispers floated through the stale air; the two adults were too far away to hear the words properly. His palms were cold and sweaty; clutching the white sheets harder like it was a lifeline. He opened his eyes a crack, just to see Pomfrey nod curtly and rush to her office. Green emeralds slowly looked into charcoal black orbs, noticing that the held a lot less malice and they seemed not as cold as the previous years. Harry had no idea how long they held each other's gazes, but he pulled his eyes down, deciding to try to find interest in the tiled floor.

Harry just found out that the second tile had twice as many grey speckles then the first he looked at when Pomfrey came rushing back in, carrying a glass cup filled with a shimmering mother-of-pearl coloured potion.

'Here you go, Mr Potter. I would like you to drink all of it, ok?' she said in a voice that was gentle, but also said to obey her without questions.

Harry nodded nervously, unclenching one hand from the sheets and taking the cold glass, the potion rippling slightly due to the tremors rattling through his frame. Grimacing slightly, he downed it all in one go, shuddering at the gross bitterness that stung his tongue. Handing the now empty cup back, he felt drowsiness flow through him like a virus, making his limbs heavy and sluggish, and his eyelids threatening to shut any second. He felt strong, large hands push him back down onto the bed, stroking the black locks out of the forest-green orbs. They removed his glasses, making the room blur together before he fell into the black oblivion.

~.*Promise*.~

Ron could not concentrate. At all. His best friend who is like a brother to him had been taken by the greasy-haired git himself. To the _hospital wing _no less. Why would Harry need to go there for? Unless his suspicions were true…

_Damn._

Ever since he first met Harry on the Hogwarts train, he knew there was something going on with the brunet. He has always been jumpy, flinching away from everyone who went to touch him. The second-hand clothes, being able to count all his ribs… it was disturbing to say the least. However, second year made his thoughts a possibility. He had never known such cruel people like the Dursley's to actually go so far as to put metal bars on the window. To install a bloody _cat flap_ in the bedroom door. To lock away important school things in the cupboard under the stairs that used to be Harry's old bedroom. It was disgusting.

But now, new thoughts were invading his mind. What was up with the sudden meeting with Snape? And being taken out of an important lesson to go to the hospital wing at the very start of term. He had only one theory, and he hoped with everything he had that it wasn't true. However, somewhere deep in his mind, he knew it was.

His fists clenched on top of the cluttered desk they were currently working at, snapping the grey quill he was writing with. He saw from the corner of his eye that Hermione was looking curiously at him, her own quill poised.

'What's wrong?' she asked, pulling her wand out and fixing the quill with a quick spell.

'Everything,' Ron growled lowly. 'Something's up with our friend, and I want to know what, but I really hope it's not what I think it is.'

Hermione's whisky eyes grew wide. 'What do you think it is?' she asked quietly, feeling dread boil in her stomach.

Ron glanced quickly at her face, noticing that her face showed the same emotions he was feeling. 'The Dursley's,' he hissed. 'I think they do more than neglect him. I think they get physical.' He grimaced.

Tears glistened in Hermione's eyes, beading on her black lashes. 'I've had the same thoughts,' she whispered painfully, staring numbly at her long fingers. 'I can't believe we haven't noticed it before. We could have done _something _about it.'

'I know Hermione,' he whispered softly, reaching over to cup one of her hands with his own. 'I wonder if Dumbledore knows about this.'

Hermione looked up into her friend's blue eyes sadly. 'I don't think he does. If he did, he would've done something by now. I'm sure of it.'

'But Hermione,' Ron said hesitantly. 'Dumbledore must know that they at least neglect him. It's not hard to spot, and he hasn't done anything about that.'

Hermione covered her eyes with her spare hand. 'I know,' she whispered painfully. 'And I don't know why he hasn't done anything. He acts like he cares a lot for Harry, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder what he is planning.'

'Planning, Hermione?' Ron muttered questionably.

Hermione removed her hand from her eyes. 'You haven't noticed?' she asked, continuing when Ron shook his head no. 'Remember in first year, when Harry told us that Hagrid had orders from Dumbledore to get the philosopher's stone out of the volt? I think that Dumbledore wanted Harry to get curious of the stone, that's why he asked him to do it when he was with Harry. Then there is the troll. How was it possible that a full-grown troll made it into the school without breaching the wards? I think Dumbledore knew Quirrell let it in, because he honestly wasn't that surprised when it entered the hall.'

Ron had nodded throughout the short speech, eyes broadening when it all made sense. 'Of course!' he exclaimed. 'He knew that Hagrid is the worst at keeping secrets – everyone knows that. So he must've planned that Hagrid would say something about the stone to us, and he conveniently left the school on the day Voldemort tried to steal it. And the only other people apart from the teachers that knew about it were us!'

'Exactly.' Hermione nodded. 'Then there was second year. He told Harry how a phoenix's powers work, and about the Gryffindor sword. Then with all the fuss about the chamber reopening, he must have asked Binns to tell our class the story. No one else new it. Then Harry figured out that he could hear the basilisk when no one else could, and he told Dumbledore, but he didn't do anything. He let us figure it out, let us overhear about Ginny, knowing that we would go down there to save her.' She stopped, breathing deeply as thoughts hammered in her mind. 'But I want to know _why _he let Harry do all those dangerous things. It just doesn't add up!'

Ron glanced at Lupin, surprised that he didn't hear their reckless whispering. 'No, it doesn't.'

The sound of scratching quills filled the air again as silence befell onto the two young friends, both too distracted to finish off their work.

Behind the gossiping duo, Draco Malfoy heard every word and it shocked him to the core.

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Draco paused by the huge double doors of the hospital wing. His palm was flat against the white wood, ready to push it open. He could not believe it. If anyone had what Potter had on his shoulders, they would've killed themselves by now. However, to be abused at home, a place where you're meant to be loved is disgusting. He is amazed how Potter has always come up on top, no matter what he went through. That is why he respects him.

Sighing softly, he pushed against the door, grunting when it didn't budge. Damn. He finally picked up the nerve to visit him, just to find out that the doors were locked. Pulling out his wand, he whispered a quick '_Alohomora_'. Nothing happened. Draco frowned. Luckily, his father taught him a different unlocking spell, and luckily, it wasn't dark arts.

'_Argis_,' he whispered. A soft click echoed and he smiled. Pocketing his wand, he pushed the door open slowly. The stench of disinfectant, potions and lavender made him scrunch his nose in disgust, and why did the room have to be so bight?

He could hear harsh whispers coming from Pomfrey's office, so the cost was at the all clear for the moment. He slipped inside, closing the door softly. He looked up, mercury eyes searching each bed for the familiar head of hair. Those eyes widened as they found their target.

Potter was asleep on his stomach, his raven hair falling sideways over his forehead, showing the jagged red scar. Emerald eyes were sealed from the world, and pink lips were slightly open, breathing deeply. Draco never realised how small he was since now. He looked so young, so innocent. If people saw him like this, they never would have thought that this boy fought off you-know-who thrice, and killed a basilisk. Draco watched for several moments, entranced.

However, then he noticed that a white sheet was covering Potter's lower half, leaving his back exposed. As his eyes rested on the soft curve of his spine, he let out a shocked gasp.

_Holy shit._

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	7. mysteries afoot

Mysteries afoot

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He couldn't believe it. However, it was staring rather painfully at his face. A network of criss-crossing scars spoiled the once smooth skin, and strips of barely healed welts were red and gruesome. He now knew why the doors were locked.

As he tensely made his way to the unconscious teen, he noticed the sickly yellow bruises littering his upper-arms, in the shape of handprints. He felt anger surge inside him, and he clenched his fists. He stopped when he was next to the bed, mercury eyes staring down at the contorted back of his once enemy. No one deserved this. Especially Harry. He had no idea how long this abuse had been going on for, but he was shocked how Harry could face everything he had been through when he was already damaged.

He has always known that Muggles were strange beings. He has, of course, heard of the many killers in the non-magical world, like Jack the Ripper and Hitler. It showed that even people as helpless as Muggles could cause so much damage, kill so many people, so he had no doubt that Harry's relatives did this. Over the years, he had heard rumours concerning these Muggles, but he had always thrown it off, thinking the boy-who-lived was just trying to get more attention.

His hand brushed the black hair from Harry's eyes, finding the unruly tendrils velvety soft. The pale skin was also smooth, but the forehead was slightly hotter than it should have been. Draco frowned, wondering why the Medi-witch had left a patient that so obviously needed medical attention for so long. Squatting down, he stared at Harry's unresponsive face, noticing things he hadn't noticed before. Like how the slight fever has caused a light dusting of pink over pale cheeks. How he looked much younger without those hideous black glasses on. How those pink lips inhaled and exhaled breaths of air.

Without realising, he lifted a hand, tracing those rosy lips before moving to cup a cheek. He had no idea why he did it. It was like an impulse.

Pricking his ears, he concentrated on the harsh, sharp whispers still emitting from the office. Even though he couldn't tell who they were, he could tell that they were wary of each other by what their tones implied. Breathing deeply, he straightened, running his fingers though the black hair before leaning down to kiss the fevered forehead gently.

'Get well soon, Harry.' He whispered softly as he turned on his heal, slipping out of the white room and locking the door behind him.

X

'Would you care to explain what happened to him, Severus?' the Medi-witch whispered fiercely, hands on her hips.

'Isn't obvious, Poppy?' came the whispered reply. 'His relatives did this to him because he is a _wizard!'_

'Now now, Severus. I'm sure Headmaster Dumbledore would've done something sooner if he had known.'

'He _did_ know, you daft old bat! But with the amount of times he has ended up in here, I would've assumed you would've found out on your own!'

Poppy bristled, straightening up and staring coldly at the Potions Professor. 'How _dare _you! With all the stuff that young boy has been through, the malnourishment and exhaustion explained itself! I would like to see you go through half the stuff Harry has and come out with a normal apatite and dreamless sleep!'

'Surely with the scars on his back you would've figured it out. It is quite obvious that it was abuse.' Severus growled, crossing his arms and staring down at the healer.

'I've never checked his back, Severus! The thought _never _crossed my mind! I know Headmaster Dumbledore would've done something if he had known!'

'Don't you get it, woman? Dumbledore knew they neglected him, knew they put bars on his window, knew that the boy lived in a cupboard under the stairs!' Snape sneered, leaning closer to the brunette. 'Have you ever wondered why he wanted to send Potter's Hogwarts letter personally? Why he wouldn't let anyone else see it?'

Poppy shook her head reluctantly.

'Because that bloody letter had the cupboard as Potter's address! He did not want anyone else to find out, so he sent it personally!'

'Really, Severus. I thought I knew you better as to lie! You're clearly not the person I thought you were!' Poppy said, shocked, but not backing down. 'I'm sure the headmaster knows what he is doing. Now if you don't mind, I have a sick patient to tend to.'

Snape growled. He hated the way the witch could end a very important conversation with her job, even though Potter _did _need her attention. Running long pale fingers through his black hair, he turned on his heal and walked out of the office, quickly looking at the door as it closed with a soft click. Frowning, he made his way over to the only occupied bed, looking down at the scrambled back. He still couldn't believe it. Dumbledore's golden boy with the perfect life and the over-protective relatives was all a lie. Instead, it was a replay of his life when he was Potter's age.

His father, Tobias, was a drunk for as long as he could remember, and Tobias took out all his pent up frustration on him. His favourite was kicking; at the most, he ended up with a few broken ribs and bruises. Never had it gotten as bad as Potter's case, however. At least they could do something now, to stop the abuse that one day might take the young life.

Brushing his fingers over the small forehead, he frowned at the heat emitting from it. Did Pomfrey realise that Potter had a fever? Eyes roaming over the figure, he noticed that some of the welts were infected, along with a rather nasty cut on one of the upper-arms.

Wondering what was taking the daft woman so long, he stormed back towards the office, roughly shoving the door open.

'Poppy-' Snape stopped dead, one hand still flat against the cold wood. The Medi-witch was unconscious on the floor, her skin the colour of parchment. A shattered cup was next to her, the beige liquid slowly spreading.

'Oh merlin,' Snape muttered as he rushed to the fireplace, throwing in a handful of the gritty floo powder.

When the neon green flames burst into life, he quickly knelt down and shouted, 'Dumbledore!'

He stumbled to his feet as the headmaster walked through, that ever-present twinkle in the blue eyes vanishing at the sight of the Medi-witch.

'Severus,' he whispered, kneeling down next to the prone figure and taking out his wand. 'What happened?' a shimmering mist exploded from the tip of the wood, swirling around her.

'I have not a clue, Albus,' Snape replied, his fingers clenching around his own wand as he watched the iridescent mist slowly evaporate. 'Will she need medical treatment?'

'I am afraid so, my dear boy. As it seems, her tea was laced with something even I cannot recognise, so we need her to go to St Mungo's.'

'What about Potter? She hasn't treated him yet, and he seems to be in quite a bad condition. Will he go there as well?'

'No no, Severus. If he goes, word will spread. As defenceless as he is at this current moment, he would be an easy target.'

'Then what do you propose?' Snape questioned, taking another handful of that horrible powder. His reply was a pointed look, and Snape immediately straightened.

'Surely not, Albus! Someone else can watch the boy. I did not sign up for the Potter guard and I'll not act the boy's servant.'

'Severus, it wouldn't be like that as you well know. He needs medical attention, however, and you have more experience than everyone here combined.'

Snape shook his head, turning towards the brick fireplace. Scattering the powder, he watched with narrowed eyes as the green flames appeared once again before stepping in, shouting out a clear 'St Mungo's!' before disappearing.

Dumbledore sighed, running long fingers through his silver beard. No matter how hard he pretended it did not happen, Severus was right. Harry was abused. Harry was more delicate then he had anticipated. However, that shouldn't change his plans greatly. This, however, not so much. The sudden attack on the Medi-witch shocked him to the core, leaving his mind blank on what to do. Why would someone hurt Poppy? As fair as he knew, she loved to live a quiet life in the castle, surrounded by happy children and she adored her job. She lived to help her students. She loved how she could watch every student grow and mature, becoming what they want, hopefully to make great changes to the world.

Making sure Poppy was stable, he looked around the room, wrinkled blue eyes searching for anything that would give them a lead. There was nothing. A spider was siting quite happily in the middle of its web in a corner of the ceiling, and a few flies were hovering around an uneaten apple. All in all, it was quite normal.

The emerald flames exploded back in the grate, and a very flustered Snape stepped through, followed by Healers dressed in white robes. Snape moved to the side next to Dumbledore, and watched with empty eyes as they took her back through the flames to St Mungo's.

Snape couldn't believe that this happened whilst he was in the other room. Whoever did it, though, must have used a silencing charm and ended it as they disappeared. But _how _did they disappear? He didn't see anyone come in through the hospital wing, and they couldn't have been wearing an invisibility cloak because the doors didn't open. It just didn't make sense.

And now there was the problem of finding someone to look after Potter. There was no way in hell he was going give Dumbledore what he wants. There was something strange going on with the old man, and he wanted to find out what it was.

Sighing, he rubbed his face with his calloused hands, looking over at Dumbledore. The other man was staring out through the office door, blue eyes empty and non-blinking as they stared at the only living thing in there. What the old man said was true though. Except for Poppy, he was the only other person who had enough medical experience to deal with a case like Potter's. If he couldn't go to St Mungo's, he was the only person who could help him.

Great.

Growling, he turned fully to the aged man, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. Dumbledore turned, raised his bushy eyebrows and a slight twinkle appeared back in those eyes.

'It's the best thing for him, Severus,' he said, steepling his fingers. 'and you know that. I think it would be best to take him to your quarters, just until he recovers.'

'What?' Snape growled, black eyes flashing. 'You can't be serious. You know how much we hate each other, and it will take a few weeks for him to be fully healed. It will not work, Albus, and you know it.'

'It will do both of you a lot of good, Severus. You need to see that Harry is not his father, nor his mother. You need to see that he is his own man, and you need to start treating him properly.'

'Albus-'

'No Severus,' Dumbledore cut in. 'you need to do this. Not for me, not for Harry, but for yourself. Now go and take him to your quarters before the lessons end.'

Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Of course, headmaster.' With that, he turned on his heel and headed towards the only occupied bed.

Crossing his arms, he stared down at the boy, taking in the pale skin, the wounds, and the messy, unruly hair. Sighing again, he pocketed Potter's glasses and carefully turned the child over onto his back. He then gently scooped up the unresponsive boy, frowning at how light he was. Shaking his head slightly, he walked to the door and pushed it open with a nudge of his shoulder. Dumbledore must have unlocked it earlier.

He walked at a quick pace, careful not to jostle the burden in his arms to much. He could feel the heat from the fever soak through his robes, and he pushed himself to go faster, not liking how high it is. Finally, after a long-ish trek through the dungeons, he came upon a portrait.

The silver frame glimmered in the dull light and the delicate, carved snakes weaving round the picture seemed to actually move. They had sparkling emeralds for eyes; they always reminded him of Lily. It was square, and the size of a normal muggle door. The picture, however, was as magnificent as its frame. A single oak tree was in the middle, its twisted, knobbly braches braking off into the sapphire sky, the bright red, orange, yellow and brown leaves glowing in the late afternoon sun. The grass was long and shaggy, a dark green and it swayed with the non-existent wind. A small figure was hunched over in the smooth dip of the trunk, a think tome in the tiny hands. Raven black hair flowed in the breeze, and as Snape stopped in front of the portrait, the girl stood up, dusted her skirt, and walked towards them.

'Hello, Severus,' she greeted, brushing a stray lock of hair behind an ear. 'Password?'

Snape nodded his head in greeting. '_Nunquam alieno__.' _

The girl smiled brightly, letting the portrait swing open. 'Have a good day!' she said as he walked inside.

As the entrance closed behind them, Snape breathed deeply. His quarters were the only place he could get the much-needed quiet, and now he had to share the tranquility with Potter. He walked over to the black leather sofa, gently laying his bundle down. Brushing the hair away from the boy's forehead, he pushed his palm against it. Frowning, he made his way to the bathroom, soaking a flannel with cold water before rolling it up and placing it on the feverish forehead. Next, he walked to a cabinet and pulled out a few potions, walking back to the prone figure and poured them down the small throat, massaging it with one hand to help it go down.

Sighing, he sat down heavily in an armchair, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

Yes, it's going to be a very interesting year.

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**Yay! Its up! I'm sorry that's its late, but I started collage this week, and the days are long and tiring, and I couldn't find the motivation to sit and type. Anyway, I hope you'll like it, and the next chapter WILL be longer, but it will take longer to update because of collage… I'm sorry! :(**

**Oh yeah, I've started a sasunaru story… the idea just burst into my brain and I had to write it… it should be out by tomorrow :D I hope you guys will read it if you're interested :D**

**Sapphire Swirls over and out! xx**


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